


Lost And (Maybe) Found

by beastie_beauty



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastie_beauty/pseuds/beastie_beauty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A deserted island after a plane crash is sometimes the best way to get to know someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost And (Maybe) Found

 Everything around them looks like a complete mess; the fire is slowly dying but its heat is still unbearable, and people are crying because of the pain - physical or not. It’s the most painful thing about this, having to hear the loud cries, the sobs, as they bandage their wounds. So Angie walks away from the wreck that used to be a plane, she still doesn’t understand how everyone survived. A miracle of some sort.

 There’s a woman on the beach, sitting on the sand, cross-legged despite her skirt. She’s using a small knife to sharpen a stick she must have picked up on her way here. Angie knows it’s the pretty woman with the English accent, she could recognize those curves anywhere.

 “Whatcha doin, English?” Angie asks when she is sure the other woman knows she isn’t alone anymore. “We’ve got plenty of food that didn’t burn in the crash, no need to go fishin, you know?”

 “I am keeping my hands busy,” she says.

 Angie doesn’t wait to be invited to sit down next to the woman, she simply does, and there’s no protest. She tugs nervously at the hem of her dress - her uniform smells like smoke.

 “Is everyone still all right?”

 Angie nods. English smiles, visibly relaxing. There’s something about how nervous the other woman looked since the plane took off a few hours ago that makes Angie thinks she’s lost someone that way. Just like when her aunt tenses up near trucks - poor cousin Ralphie…

 “How are you doing? Did ya get hurt?”

 Even if she saw her blood-covered shirt, Angie asks. English was the first to react after the violent landing, checking if anyone died, unafraid to get her hands and clothes bloodied. Now Angie can see the cuts on her face and hands, most of them already stopped bleeding but a few others are deep.

 “You should do something about that before it gets infected,” Angie insists, pointing a finger at a large wound on the Englishwoman’s forearm.

 “I will live, others might not.”

 “You’re an idiot, English. Courageous and smart, but definitely an idiot.”

 “Did you call me English?”

 Angie chuckles. It’s wrong to feel so light and happy right now, but the puzzled look on the woman’s face and the surprise in her voice are too good.

 “We’re gonna be stuck on that island for some time, so we need to be intimate, you know?”

 English doesn’t answer. She stares at the ocean in front of them a moment before looking down again at the stick. She could without a doubt kill someone with that.

 “I just hope we won’t get the whole Lost scenario!” Angie exclaims as she stands up, dusting her uniform to get rid of the sand. She extends an arm, hoping that English will grab her hand. “Wanna go look around to find a way to signal our position?”

 The other woman glances at her hand, then up to her face, and down again. Angie feels childish and ridiculous - she knows it won’t take the authorities too much time to find the plane once they realize something’s wrong, but exploring a desert island is an adventure she’s dreamed of too many times. She’s about to hide her hand behind her back and walk away awkwardly when English grabs it to stand.

 “My name’s Peggy,” she says without letting go of her hand.

 “Angie.”

 “I know.”

 Angie frowns. But she remembers the name tag and blushes, embarrassed by her forgetfulness.

 “Let’s go then. We wouldn’t want to end up in a silly overused American scenario, would we?” **  
**


End file.
